


More Than a Dream

by pastelwitchling



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Dream World, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Malex, Mr. jones referenced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelwitchling/pseuds/pastelwitchling
Summary: After an attack from Mr. Jones, Michael wakes up to find himself in a dream world where he and Alex are married.
Relationships: Michael Guerin & Alex Manes, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 40
Kudos: 245





	1. Chapter One. I've Always Dreamed

Michael woke to a familiar face at his bedside.

It took him a second to remember what had happened before darkness had overwhelmed him, but the memories soon caught up. They’d been in a cave with the pods, fighting a man that looked just like Max and was nothing like him at all. His siblings had been there, and Liz and Kyle… and Alex… Alex had been there.

They’d been attacked by something like a hurricane, and Michael had reached for Alex’s hand desperately. It hadn’t been enough. He had caught his airman’s gaze just before the wind became too strong and separated the two. Michael had screamed his name, but there had been no point. Alex was gone.

“Alex,” he murmured, his voice hoarse and his throat like sandpaper. He had to find Alex.

The hand that had been holding his tightened. “I’m right here, Guerin,” the familiar face said. Michael’s vision cleared and he realized a few things at once.

The first was that he was in a hospital room. The second was that the familiar face was none other than airman himself. And the third was that Alex was holding his hand tightly enough to bruise.

Alex was standing over him, pressing something on the back of the wall that Michael couldn’t see. When Kyle suddenly came in, he realized what that button was.

“He’s awake,” Alex said instantly. “Kyle, is he okay?”

“Hang on, Manes, give him a chance to breathe,” Kyle muttered as he pulled out a small light and shined it in both of Michael’s eyes. Alex was forced to let go of Michael’s hand, leaving him cold.

“Yep,” Kyle stood straight, pleased. “Like we thought, his alien genes are healing him up at an abnormal pace.” His shoulders fell. “Now all I have to do is go fake a bunch of blood reports and medical charts. Yay . . .”

“How’s everyone else?” Michael asked as he tried to sit up. “Are they okay?”

Alex nodded, and it was only now Michael noticed the bruise on his cheek and the cut on his lip. “They’re fine. _You_ were the unlucky one.”

Michael scoffed. “What else is new?” He looked around. “Why am I in a hospital? Just give me some acetone and I’ll be fine.”

Kyle grinned at a blushing Alex, amused. “That’s what _I_ said, but your husband wanted to be sure.”

Michael blinked. “ _What_?”

“You weren’t waking up!” Alex defended, taking Michael’s hand in his own again. “It’s not like you’re immune to broken bones!”

Michael’s eyes fell to Alex’s hands on his, his heart jumping in his chest at how tightly Alex held him. And that’s when he saw it. The sunlight shining in through the windows cast a golden glow on the band around his ring finger. It was identical to the one on Alex. Michael stared.

“Wh – um,” he shook his head, his brows furrowed. “ _Husband_?”

Alex looked over. “Yeah?”

“No, I –” Michael’s eyes were wide. “Guys, this isn’t funny.”

Alex and Kyle exchanged concerned glances. Alex asked, “Guerin, what’re you talking about? What’s not funny?”

Michael held his gaze. He’d always been able to spot when Alex was lying or teasing him, but the airman gave no indication that he was doing anything of the sort. When Alex held his hand tighter, pressing it against his chest in a nervous kind of way, as if he was terrified but only able to keep himself together by holding onto Michael, Michael realized what was going on.

“Oh,” Michael fell back against his pillows, his fingers thoughtlessly closing around Alex’s. “ _Oh_ , I get it. This is a dream. I’m dreaming.”

Alex glanced at Kyle. “Kyle?”

But Kyle only shook his head, clearly at a loss himself.

Alex hesitated, then sat down beside Michael on the bed, his right knee bent at an angle that Michael knew couldn’t have been comfortable on his stump, but Alex didn’t look bothered at all. He pressed a hand to Michael’s forehead, then his cheek, then the side of his neck.

“You don’t have a fever,” Alex murmured, his thigh pressed against Michael’s. Michael could smell the familiar scent of maple syrup and wood on him, and longed to lean in, press his nose against the crook of his neck and inhale.

So he was dreaming. It felt awfully real, but where else would Alex have ever agreed to marry him unless in a dream? As Alex kept softly stroking the side of Michael’s neck with his fingers, Michael had the brief, horrifying thought that he’d died and gone to heaven.

_No_ , he thought firmly. Just dreaming. He was probably being patched up right now in his airstream, maybe Max was working on healing him as they spoke. He was fine, he _would_ wake up. But it was so hard to worry or care about that as Alex’s gold band glittered on his finger, as Alex pressed against him and looked at him with such loving eyes.

Michael considered what he’d figured out so far. He was still an alien in this dream, he still had powers, his siblings were still around, Kyle and Alex were still irritatingly close. The only difference seemed to be that he and Alex were married. Michael’s heart jumped into his throat at the thought, and he swallowed with difficulty around it.

_Married._ Alex was his _husband_. And right now, as Michael kept losing himself to his thoughts, to Alex’s warmth, his touch, his scent, Michael realized that Alex was his _deeply worried_ husband. He mustered a smile.

If this _was_ a dream, then Michael planned to enjoy it down to every last second.

“I’m okay, baby,” he tried the nickname and felt a deep satisfaction when Alex’s hold on his hand tightened. “I’m just tired.”

“That’s to be expected,” Kyle said consolingly.

Alex didn’t look like he believed Michael. It gladdened the cowboy to know Alex could still read him so perfectly, even in this dreamscape.

Michael, however, took the opportunity to do what he’d been wanting to do for _years_ , and leaned in, nuzzling the crook of Alex’s neck, inhaling him.

He half-expected Alex to turn away, to move off the bed, to stammer an excuse about why he suddenly had to leave. But this Alex already knew of Michael’s love for him. This Alex was Michael’s _husband_. This Alex wrapped his arms around Michael’s shoulders tightly, holding him even closer.

Michael’s brows furrowed as his eyes burned. _Stupid_ , he thought. Was he actually going to cry because Alex hugged him? Because he was close enough to kiss, to touch? Because he wouldn’t have turned Michael down?

Michael exhaled shakily as he hugged Alex’s waist, snuggling deeper into the crook of his neck, his lips pressed against the soft, warm skin beneath his collar.

“Okay,” Kyle awkwardly said after a long silence in which Michael just hugged Alex closely and refused to let him go. “Well, I’m just going to, you know, check on the other patients. Should I – uh – let the others know you’re awake?”

Michael pulled Alex in against him, slinging a leg over Alex’s so that he was halfway on top of him.

“Later,” he breathed, unable to believe his luck. He’d decided this absolutely _was_ a dream. There was no way he’d be allowed to do this in the real world, not after everything that had happened. Michael made a mental note to ask Alex how he’d proposed as soon as possible. If he woke up before finding that out first, he would kill Max and have him slip him back into a coma to figure it out.

Alex chuckled under his breath, the worry dissipating from his bones underneath Michael’s body. “Sure, let them in.”

Michael made a whining noise in the back of his throat, but then Alex’s hand slid into hair, his fingers raking Michael’s curls so soothingly that Michael gasped softly before melting against him completely.

Kyle left the room and Alex murmured against Michael’s hair, “Everyone’s been so worried about you. You can’t leave them out there.”

Michael held on, his body reacting like a violin to Alex’s touch. But he couldn’t go to sleep. He knew how dreams worked; if you went to sleep in a dream, you woke up to reality, and right now, reality was Alex unable to stand the sight of him for long, Alex being disgusted with both him and Maria for what had happened and unwilling to say it, Alex angry and hurt and _disappointed_. Reality was awful and Michael didn’t want to go back. Not yet.

“Am I hurting your leg?” he said instead of any of that.

“Hm? Uh, no,” Alex said with a hint of surprise in his voice. “My leg’s fine.”

“You want me to take the prosthetic off? Because I’m not letting you leave this bed.”

Alex chuckled a little uncertainly. “What prosthetic? What do you mean?”

Michael frowned. He looked up at Alex, then down at his right leg caught under Michael’s, but before he could respond the door opened, and Max, Isobel, and Liz came in.

“Well, I should’ve known you’d be humping him the second you woke up,” Isobel said with her hands on her waist. She tugged on Alex’s arm, glaring at Michael. “Would you get _off_ him?”

Michael didn’t answer a moment, his eyes on Alex’s leg. If Alex didn’t know about the prosthetic, did that mean . . .?

Liz suddenly snapped her fingers in front of his face, and he started out of his thoughts.

“ _Hello_? You okay?”

Michael looked up at all of them. They were covered in cuts and bruises, but seemed no different than they usually did. Everyone looked the same, and if he and Alex hadn’t been wearing those rings, if Alex hadn’t been willingly lying down beside him with his arms around Michael’s shoulders as if he were the most valuable treasure in the world – if it hadn’t been for all of that, Michael might’ve believed everything was normal.

Alex’s heart beat against Michael’s palm, and Michael exhaled deeply against Alex’s skin. _This_ was so much better than normal.

“Go away,” Michael said. “All of you, get out.”

“He’s kidding,” Alex said.

“I’m not. I want to be alone with Alex.”

Isobel suddenly slapped his leg.

“Ow!”

“This isn’t a motel!”

“Get me out of here, Alex,” Michael said through grit teeth. “Get me out of this damn room!”

“This is going about the way I expected,” Alex said calmly, running his hand up and down Michael’s back.

It wasn’t until another two hours that they were able to get Michael out, after Isobel had helped influence everyone’s minds into forgetting that he was there at all.

Michael spotted his truck right away, but he couldn’t find his keys.

“They’re with me,” Alex said as he jangled them. He took Michael’s hand, not caring who was watching, and kissed his fingers. “In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m driving.”

Michael watched, stunned as Alex opened the driver’s car door as if he’d been doing it for years. He slid into the seat with ease, and when Michael didn’t do the same, he leaned forward, smiling.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you getting in?”

No one ever drove Michael’s truck. Since the day he got it, the only person to ever sit behind the wheel was him. No one, not even his siblings, had ever driven it. But _damn_ , Alex looked good where he sat. Michael wondered why he’d never asked Alex to drive it before.

“Y-Yeah,” Michael stammered and got in. He cleared his throat, trying to adjust to being in the passenger’s seat.

Then Alex touched his thigh. “You okay?”

Michael huffed a single, disbelieving chuckle. “Yeah.” He licked his lips, hesitated for only a second, and leaned in, taking Alex’s lips in his own.

The hand that came to rest in his hair was a bit of a surprise, but Michael quickly melted against Alex, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed Alex, the last time he’d felt his soft and warm lips, his hot tongue, but it all felt so _real_ , as real as it had ever been. And Alex was kissing him back so easily, so _eagerly_ , the gold band on his finger cold and reassuring against Michael’s cheek.

“Okay,” Alex breathed, pulling away only enough to press their foreheads together. “ _Okay_. We can’t – we can’t do this now. Not here.” He groaned under his breath and pulled Michael in again for another kiss.

Michael wanted to laugh from the joy overflowing in his heart, but he didn’t ever want to separate from Alex’s mouth. He pulled at Alex’s collar, pulling him in deeper, kissing him harder.

He brought his hand down Alex’s chest, eager to feel his naked skin against his own. He tugged at the hem of Alex’s shirt. “Take this off.”

Alex took Michael’s wrists, pulling his hands off his shirt. Michael had the horrible fleeting memory of pulling Alex in by his uniform and having his hand removed. He feared Alex would put distance between them again, but the airman pulled Michael’s hands up to his mouth and kissed them.

“Not here,” Alex whispered, and pecked Michael’s lips. “But I _will_ have you. Every inch of you.” He kissed him again, and Michael moaned against his lips, reaching over to sit on his lap. Alex laughed. “Not here, you dork!”

“I want to do it here,” Michael breathed, kissing his cheek, then his jaw. “ _Now_.”

Alex laughed harder. “We’re not doing it in front of a hospital, have you no shame?!”

“None,” Michael took Alex’s lower lip in his mouth.

Eventually, Alex managed to get Michael seated with his seatbelt on.

“The brakes are a little rough though, won’t it be a hard on your leg?”

Alex sighed, but smiled as he shook his head, pulling out of the hospital parking lot. “Michael, my leg is fine. They both are. Honestly, my chest took the brunt of it.”

“I’m just . . . making sure. It was a cold room, that chair couldn’t have been comfortable . . . and Max said you never left my side.”

“Of course,” Alex said. “I love you, I couldn’t leave. No matter what everyone said.”

Michael stared.

“Guerin?” No response. “ _Michael_?”

Michael blinked. “Hm?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Michael breathed, falling back against his seat, his eyes on Alex. “ _Yeah_ , I’m okay. I’m good, I’m _great_.”

Alex told him he loved him. Alex Manes said _I love you_ as easily as if he’d been saying it every day. Michael supposed, in this Dream Alex’s head, he had been.

Michael leaned in and kissed Alex’s cheek, his jaw, his clothed shoulder. “I love you, Alex. _So_ much.”

Alex cupped his jaw, kissing the top of Michael’s head as he came to rest it on the airman’s shoulder. “I know.”

As they drove, Michael realized Alex was heading to his own house instead of the airstream. He lifted his head, his brows furrowed. “We’re not going to the junkyard?”

Alex raised a brow. “Why would we be going to the junkyard? I’m pretty sure getting attacked by an evil alien is grounds for taking the day off.”

“What about the airstream?”

Alex frowned. “It’s . . . where it always is. Are you sure you don’t have a concussion? Maybe we should go back to the hospital.”

“No, I –” he shook his head. “I just . . . had a really weird dream while I was out. Keeps coming back to me.”

Alex hummed. “Sounds like you were dreaming about the olden days. I was so nervous coming to that junkyard to see you. I was always so sure you’d have someone else over.”

Michael’s smile dimmed. “What?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged a shoulder. “Everyone wanted you, you know that.”

Michael clenched his jaw. He shouldn’t have brought it up, but he was so curious. He wanted to know how Alex had managed to forgive him. What Michael would have to do when he woke up, to win Alex back.

“Like Maria?” he asked. He expected Alex to tense up, to look visibly uncomfortable, to shrug the question away.

Instead, his laughed. “Which she still won’t forgive me for, by the way.”

Michael stared. “What?”

“Come on, Guerin,” he rolled his eyes. “She basically advertised it to all of Roswell. We’d never even really dated, but you still turned her down?” He shook his head. “She’s always been beautiful and so strong and cool. . . . When I found out you wouldn’t so much as kiss her just because of me . . . that’s when I understood that all those jokes about us being good for nothing but sex, all those times you wouldn’t come running after me . . . it always felt like you never loved me, you just . . . wanted me. I said I knew how you felt, but,” he sighed, “I didn’t. Never once was I absolutely sure. When you said no to Maria, even though you had no reason to, I was sure.”

He huffed a chuckle that shattered Michael’s heart, and stuck his tongue out in exaggerated disgust. “Why are you letting me ramble? You already know all of this stuff.” No response. “You’re awfully quiet to. . . . _Hey_ , why are you crying?”

Michael shook his head, wiping his tears away having not realized they were falling at all. His heart felt like shattered glass at the pit of his stomach. So _this_ was the answer, _this_ was how he’d finally gotten to have Alex. He’d never kissed Maria, he’d never so much as looked her way. He’d been loyal to Alex, just as Alex had been loyal to him.

He couldn’t turn back the clock, he couldn’t undo all he and Maria had done. This dream was as far as he and Alex were ever going to go, because Alex would never believe in Michael’s love for him again. They would never be together.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Alex muttered, his eyes wide and his brows furrowed as he pulled up to the side of the road. He turned in his seat to face Michael, taking Michael’s face in his hands. “Hey, baby, talk to me, what happened? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Michael tried for a laugh as more tears fell. He leaned into Alex’s touch, kissing his palm. He sniffled. “Nothing, I love you, nothing. I’m just tired. Don’t let go, okay? Don’t let go.”

“I won’t let go,” Alex assured him, pressing their foreheads together. “I won’t let go, I’m right here.”

Michael wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist. “I love you. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I love you, Michael, it’s okay. It’s okay, come here. Here,” he undid Michael’s seatbelt and tugged on him to come sit on his lap. “Come on, it’s okay.”

Michael was halfway to Alex’s lap before he froze. “Wait, no, your leg.”

“Again with the leg,” Alex said with an exasperated and overly fond laugh. “My leg is absolutely fine, look.” He took his fists and started beating both legs from his thigh to his ankles, the sound of flesh against flesh.

Michael wasn’t moving. He wasn’t breathing. “You – but – the Air Force –”

“What Air Force, Guerin?” Alex asked almost desperately. “That’s it, sit down, we’re going back to the hospital – _mmh_!”

Alex’s words were cut short as Michael climbed into his lap and took Alex’s lips hungrily in his. He wrapped his arms around Alex’s shoulders.

“Guerin –”

“Please don’t push me away,” Michael breathed, holding Alex so tightly that he doubted the airman could breathe himself. “Please, Alex. Kiss me. Never let me go.”

Alex searched Michael’s face a moment before he wrapped him in his arms, pressing their foreheads together. “Never.”

Alex kissed Michael roughly, holding him so tightly against him that it was _Michael_ who now couldn’t breathe, but he loved it. He loved the pain, he loved the way Alex held on, he loved _Alex_.

He tilted his head, the kiss deepening as Michael slid his tongue in. “Harder,” Michael breathed, grinding his hips into Alex’s. “Kiss me harder.”

Alex moaned as he ran his hands up Michael’s shirt. Michael groaned before tearing his shirt open and pushed that and his jacket off his shoulders. He reached down and did the same to Alex’s shirt. Alex pulled him in against him again, desperate to have him, and Michael moaned. A tear fell down his cheek and he shut his eyes tighter.

Alex’s naked skin against his own, after _so long_ , and all _his_ , it proved that Michael was dreaming. What he would’ve done to touch Alex like this again, to feel his body, his hands, his warmth. He wanted him back, he wanted him to be _his_.

“I love you,” he breathed against Alex’s mouth in between kisses. “I love you so much it hurts.”

“ _Baby_ ,” Alex moaned, reaching down to undo Michael’s belt, then the buttons on his jeans, then his zipper. “Take this off,” he urged, and Michael was only too happy to oblige.

He sat up, pulling his jeans down. Then he pulled Alex’s down below his ass so that both their erections sprang free. Michael didn’t bother staying quiet as he lowered himself onto Alex’s cock, all but screaming Alex’s name as he took him in all the way.

“ _Ah_ , Michael –”

“Harder,” Michael urged. “Harder.”

So Alex thrusted up hard, lifting his ass off the seat to roll his hips into Michael’s. Michael hugged Alex tightly, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

They both came almost at once, and Michael slumped against Alex, his eyes wet and his cheeks and ears burning. He pressed his face in Alex’s neck and lazily grinded his hips into Alex’s as Alex had reclined the seat. Their bodies were damp, and Michael enjoyed licking the salty sweat off Alex’s neck, his stomach, his nipples. The road around them was deserted, the car silent except for the sounds of Michael’s wet tongue on Alex’s skin.

Alex ran a hand up and down Michael’s back, and Michael wished he would reach down lower, touch his ass again, poke his finger into Michael’s –

“We should get dressed,” Alex said after Michael had contented with curling up halfway on top of him, his face nuzzled in Alex’s neck.

“Mm,” Michael said sleepily, and forced himself to stay awake. He couldn’t fall asleep and lose this. He could wake up alone in a world where Alex refused to love him. He _wouldn’t_. Not yet.

He grinded his hips into Alex’s again and heard him moan. He smirked, licking one of the many bruises he’d bitten into Alex’s collarbone. “Hang on, baby. My tortured lust is just starting to breathe.”

When they’d worn themselves out and managed to clean themselves off with the wipes Michael kept in the glove compartment (finding out that he’d had to put them there because this was not the first time he and Alex had lost control in the truck had Michael climbing into Alex’s lap for another round), Alex drove into his familiar driveway.

What was unfamiliar, however, but a pleasant shock, nonetheless, was that Michael’s airstream was parked at the edge of Alex’s backyard.

“Hey,” he said, pointing at it. “The trailer –”

“If you’re going to suggest we get rid of it again, I already told you, _no_ ,” Alex said with a roll of his eyes and a fond smile tugging at his lips. “I love that airstream.”

Michael’s heart swelled. “You do?”

“I always have,” Alex said defensively as he turned off the engine, his cheeks red. “Besides, I still think we need it. Look,” he added as if sure that Michael was going to cut him off, “we’re not having this discussion again. It _stays_.”

Before Michael could say anything, Alex climbed out of the passenger’s seat. Michael followed, and went straight to the backyard, opening his trailer door. To his surprise, the inside had the same bed and kitchen supplies, but it was also filled with Alex’s things. Books and music sheets in the corner, a keyboard on one of the counters, paintings hanging on the walls and potted plants by the window, and instead of just one pillow on the bed, there were two, as if he and Alex still spent the nights in here when they were too tired to go inside.

Michael’s eyes burned. This place had never really just been _his_. The ghost of Alex’s touch had always lingered, mostly because Michael couldn’t bear to lose it. He clung onto Alex’s scent on his sheets, Alex’s cup in the sink, Alex’s forgotten sweater lost under the blankets. Now it was here, in his bed, his sink, on the walls and in the blankets, out in the open.

“You hungry?” he heard Alex call from inside, and turned to find him standing at the doorframe leading to the back porch. Alex tilted his head. He must’ve seen something in Michael’s expression because he asked, “You want to stay out tonight instead?”

Michael never needed to answer for Alex to understand. With only a soft smile, Alex went back inside and grabbed a large blanket, two plates of food, and some beers. He started the bonfire and the two sat on the bench outside. Michael never knew that Alex even _had_ a bench, then remembered that it was probably something he’d gotten because he had someone to share it with. He slung an arm around Alex’s shoulders and draped the blanket over their legs, trying not to look at Alex’s right.

Michael nuzzled Alex’s ear, and Alex bit his lower lip as he grinned. Deep into the night, as the bonfire flames rose, Alex rested his head on Michael’s shoulder, his left hand in Michael’s right.

“Can you tell me?” he said softly when he thought Alex was half asleep and wouldn’t think too much of the question. “How I proposed?”

Alex scoffed lightly. “You wish,” he muttered. “You want to take credit for that?”

Michael considered his words with a frown, his heart stuttering in his chest. _No way_ . . .

“Don’t tell me . . . _you_ proposed? You actually proposed?”

“It’s been a year,” he grumbled half-heartedly, snuggling deeper against Michael’s side. “The tone of surprise is still not funny.”

Michael tightened his grip on Alex’s shoulders. “Tell me,” Michael breathed.

“You were there.”

“But I want to hear it,” Michael shut his eyes tight and pressed his lips to Alex’s hair. “Please tell me.”

Alex inhaled deeply. “It all happened that day after Noah’s attack, remember? You told me to come back so that we could talk. I hadn’t _planned_ on proposing, I never got any rings or anything, I never even knew that I _wanted_ to be married. But I came, and we talked, and you looked so . . . _scared_ that I was going to shun you or something for what you were.” He looked up at Michael from where he rested, and kissed his jaw. “So I asked – well, I . . . fine, I _told_ you to marry me.”

Michael stared at the flames, his brows furrowed, his mind a million other places. “The . . . the day I told you to come back?”

“We’d never really talked before, you know? I didn’t think you ever cared enough to really try with me.” He huffed a chuckle. “To be honest, I didn’t even think you’d show up.” He kissed Michael’s shoulder, then lower down his arm. He rested his head on Michael’s shoulder again, holding his hand in both of his over his heart. “I’ll never stop being sorry for that.”

Michael considered that Alex, how he must’ve felt when the time passed and Michael never showed up, never called. How much worse he must’ve felt when he’d discovered _why_. He remembered telling Alex that he liked Maria, he remembered the way his expression had fallen slightly before the mask he’d worn with everyone came up. Michael had been deemed then no different than anybody else. He was no safe place, no comfort. He was just someone else that had decided Alex was not good enough and moved on.

_God forbid I have faith in people who don’t give me a good reason to._

Alex was sleeping soundly on his shoulder, his hand holding Michael’s as if he was terrified that Michael would disappear in his sleep. Michael sniffled. Alex did not wake up. Michael supposed, since he was not an Air Force Captain, since he’d had no military training and no internal clock that forced him awake at the slightest sound, that Michael was safe to sob as silently as possible.

“I love you,” Michael cried into Alex’s hair, kissing what he could as more and more tears fell. “I love you, I love you, _I love you_. I’m so sorry, baby.” He pressed a wet kiss to Alex’s forehead and Alex stirred in his sleep. Michael wrapped his arms tight around him. “I’m so sorry.”

Michael held Alex as he slept. He pressed his lips to the shell of Alex’s ear, his face buried in the warmth of Alex’s hair. He didn’t want to fall asleep, he _couldn’t_. He wanted to stay here, with Alex, married and _together_.

“I don’t want to leave,” he whispered, his eyes shut tight. “I want to stay here. I don’t want to leave you again, Alex. I don’t want to leave. Please, I don’t want to leave.”

“Guerin?”

“I don’t want to leave –”

“ _Guerin_!”

“I don’t – I don’t want to –” Michael opened his eyes with a gasp and found himself in his small bed in his airstream, hugging a pillow, his face buried in its edges.

“Guerin, wake up!” he heard Alex say and looked up to find the airman standing over him. “Oh god,” he muttered and crossed the small distance to the airstream door, wrenching it open. “Max! He’s awake!”

Alex, as well as the others who walked in at that moment, were covered in cuts and bruises just as they’d been in his dream. Except this Alex didn’t hold Michael’s hand, didn’t stand at his bedside, didn’t ask a million questions about whether or not Michael was okay.

He stood against the opposite side of the airstream, his lips pursed, his arms crossed tightly, and his narrowed eyes on Michael as Max pressed a glowing red hand to his chest.

“Where’d you _go_?” Isobel demanded at once, long strands of blonde hair loose from their braid. “You wouldn’t wake up and when I tried entering your mind, it was blocked! What happened to you?”

“I –” Michael shook his head, his brows furrowed, his arms loosening on the pillow as he stared at Alex. “I was dreaming. I didn’t want to leave.”

He said that last sentence with a hope that Alex would understand what he meant, that he hadn’t wanted to leave a world where they were together, but then Michael remembered that Alex hadn’t seen what he had.

Alex held his gaze for all of a second before he looked to Isobel. “You think Mr. Jones put him in some kind of mind trap? Keep him sleeping?”

“He’s the only one powerful enough,” Isobel said with a sigh as she sat at the end of Michael’s bed, her hand on his knee tight. “But he shouldn’t have woken up.”

Max searched Michael’s face. “Maybe it wasn’t a dream at all. Maybe it was supposed to be a nightmare.”

Michael swallowed, thinking of his wedding band, of being Alex’s husband, of having Alex smiling and laughing in his arms. “No, that . . . that’s not possible. It was perfect.”

“Well, exactly,” Max said grimly. “That sounds like something Mr. Jones would do, right? Put you in a mindscape too perfect to leave, then force you back into the real world.”

“Sounds cruel enough,” Alex sighed.

“What was the dream about?”

“Doesn’t matter anymore,” Michael muttered miserably, stealing a glance at Alex who was pulling out his phone.

“I’m going to call Liz and Kyle,” he said, and turned to leave. “They said they wanted to know when Michael woke up.”

Isobel nodded as Alex left, but as soon as the door closed behind him, she turned her eyes slowly on Michael, her expression one of sympathy. “It was about him, wasn’t it? Your dream was about Alex?”

Michael opened his mouth to deny it, to make some snarky retort that he didn’t feel in the slightest, to shrug it off like it didn’t matter. But when he tried to speak, only a sob left, and he pressed his lips together, inhaling shakily.

“Bring him back in here,” he croaked, trying to reach for the door as he felt Max’s healing fix what was left of any bruises, any broken bones. “Please, bring – bring him back. Don’t let him leave.”

Isobel stood, patting his leg. “I’ll go get him.”

When she was gone, too, and Max’s hand had stopped glowing, his brother all but fell against the bed, exhausted and panting. Michael tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he felt just as weary. Max grabbed his hand anyway, gave his fingers a quick squeeze, and let go.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” Max warned, though it hardly sounded threatening as he also sounded like he was going to throw up.

Michael smiled for only half a second before it fell. “I wanted to stay there with him, Max.”

“He wasn’t your life, Michael,” Max said, and nudged his chin at the door where Alex had left not long ago. “That one is.”

Michael didn’t even have time to consider that before the door swung open and Alex walked in with furrowed brows, Isobel at his heels.

“What’s going on?” he asked, pocketing his phone. He looked Michael over. “Are you okay?”

Without preamble, without thinking it over, Michael took Alex’s hand suddenly and said, “Stay.”

Alex blinked. “What?”

“I need you to stay here, Alex. Don’t leave.”

Alex clenched his jaw, looking around conflictedly, as if hoping either Max or Isobel would help him, but when he received no response, he scratched the back of his head with his other hand and nodded. He took a seat on the bed beside Max, and hesitated only a second before he covered Michael’s hand with his own.

No gold bands glittered on their fingers, but Michael held on tighter.

It wasn’t until a few hours later, when the sky turned from twilight to black, that Max and Isobel left. Isobel had helped Max lean against her as they made their way to his car, and Michael had made it as far as one of the chairs outside solely because of Alex’s help.

Alex handed him a beer, and Michael watched as he took the chair beside his. There wasn’t more than two or three feet’s distance between them, but compared to the Alex that was curled against his side, it felt like miles away.

“Could you scoot closer?” Michael asked him.

“What was the dream about?” Alex asked instead, and Michael fell silent. “Guerin, you’ve been weird since you woke up. I can’t even blame it on a head injury, so what’s going on? What did you see when you were asleep?”

Michael searched his face. The dark circles under his eyes had returned, the soldier’s stance had come back, and his right leg was unmoving under the weight of the prosthetic. _This_ was his Alex. His Alex who he loved more than life, more than anything. His Alex who he wanted to know the truth.

So he told him. Everything.

By the end of it, Alex was staring at the bonfire with wide eyes, his grip on his beer tight.

“Need a minute?” Michael tried.

Alex shook his head. “I thought you didn’t let anyone drive your truck.”

Michael huffed a disbelieving chuckle. “I thought so, too, but . . . you looked _good_.”

“Apparently,” Alex said dryly, avoiding his eyes.

Michael, nervous, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Is that really what you picked up on? We were _married_ , we lived together, and you still had your leg.”

“Details are what matter,” Alex said. “You can’t change the details. Big things are easy, but those small moments . . .” He leaned back in his chair with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Sounds like Mr. Jones created one hell of an imaginary world for you.”

Michael shook his head. “It felt so real.”

“It would, wouldn’t it?” Alex said. “But it wasn’t.” He leaned forward, too, his eyes on Michael. “Guerin, it wasn’t us. I wouldn’t be who I am if I’d never gone to the Air Force, if my dad hadn’t . . . been who he was.”

“You don’t think being together would’ve been easier?”

“Maybe,” Alex shrugged. “But it wouldn’t have been _us_. I,” he looked down, “I know that other me may have seemed . . . _better_ , but –”

“He wasn’t you,” Michael said quietly, and Alex fell silent. “Something just felt missing, like I was reaching for you and I couldn’t find you anywhere. And then I woke up, and you were right there, and I couldn’t believe it.”

Alex said nothing.

“You have no idea what just _seeing_ you does to me, Alex,” Michael whispered. “ _None_.” He turned to the flames when he couldn’t stand seeing Alex’s eyes fill with tears. “I know you can’t forgive me for what I did. I know you can’t forgive either of us. But if it kills me, Private, I _will_ win you back. I will. I’m not giving up this time.”

He stood and bent down towards Alex to whisper in his ear. “Because it’s finally _our_ time.” He straightened, offering Alex a hand. Alex’s eyes wordlessly fell to it. “Stay tonight. I want you to stay with me.”

When Alex didn’t answer, Michael said, “Don’t let go of me, Alex. I need you to keep holding on.”

Alex looked from Michael’s hand to his face, back to his hand. A tear fell down his cheek and he wiped it off with his shoulder before curling his fingers around Michael’s, and letting the cowboy pull him to his feet.

Michael pressed their foreheads together, inhaling deeply. For the first time since he’d kissed Alex at that reunion, he finally, _finally_ , felt at peace. The two stood silently like this for what felt like an eternity before they pulled back, and Michael led Alex to the trailer, his hold on him tight.


	2. Dream a Little Dream of Me

Alex was dreaming. He had to be.

Sleep had not visited him as easily as it visited Michael, but Alex must have dozed off at some point last night. Or maybe _he_ was the one that had fallen into a coma after Mr. Jones’s attack. It was the only thing that explained how he could be lying awake at the break of dawn, the sky outside the color of watered ink, across from Michael Guerin.

They were both lying on their sides, fully clothed and facing each other, but where Michael had an arm around Alex’s waist, Alex was careful to keep his hands to himself. The faint starlight shined off Michael through the window, painting him in blue hues. He was unbearably, unfathomably beautiful. Alex ran Michael’s words from last night over and over in his mind, unable to make sense of them no matter how hard he tried.

 _You have no idea what just_ seeing _you does to me, Alex._ None.

Michael had had it all wrong. It was _him_ who left Alex speechless. Seeing him did things to Alex’s heart that he had once been convinced was only for a teenager to feel. But he felt it. He felt it so strongly that every fiber in his being always yearned to be closer to the cowboy, to feel his warm skin, touch his soft lips.

Carefully, Alex reached up and gently touched Michael’s jaw, his scruff scratching his fingertips. Alex let his hand fall down Michael’s neck, stopping at his collarbone and going back to trace his lips. Michael’s lips pursed at the touch, and the beginnings of a smile began to tug at Alex’s lips. Then he thought of Maria.

He wondered if she had ever touched Michael’s mouth. She must have, right? She must have touched his scruff, too, and his neck, and his collarbone and below. Alex shut his eyes against the thought, pulling his hand away.

He looked over his shoulder at the door as the sky outside began to lighten. It was best he go home, wasn’t it? There was every chance Michael had been delusional last night, saying things he didn’t really mean because he’d just woken from a terrifying dream.

_I didn’t want to leave._

Alex pushed the words aside. _It’s too horrible_ , he thought. It was too horrible to think that Michael had meant every word, that he would’ve rather been in a world where they were married and still chose someone else than it would’ve been to believe that he just hadn’t meant any of it.

He bit his lower lip and tried turning over in bed, but the second he was on his back, Michael stirred and tightened his arm around Alex’s waist, moving in closer and nuzzling Alex’s neck.

Alex clenched his jaw as Michael’s lips brushed his skin. He shouldn’t still feel sparks shooting up and down his body at the touch, shouldn’t fear the desperate desire to kiss Michael awake and keep kissing him until neither of them could breathe.

“Alex,” he murmured in his sleep, his hold on Alex unbearably tight. “Alex . . .”

Alex turned his head so that his nose was buried in Michael’s curls. He inhaled. The smell of grease and bourbon only faint, never able to hide the storm always brewing beneath the surface.

Alex mouthed, _‘I love you’_ into his hair, reaching up to trace the back of Michael’s hand with his fingers. He thought of the hand that had once gripped his neck so desperately and pulled him in for a kiss, had once cradled his head as if Alex was his entire world, had run through his hair as if desperate to feel every inch of him.

_The same hand that touched Maria._

Alex shut his eyes and turned away, onto his other side. Michael followed, his chest pressed against Alex’s back.

“Alex,” he sighed again, and Alex covered his face with his hands, breathing slowly.

Michael stirred again. Alex wondered if he was dreaming of them, married and happy and together. Or what if he was dreaming of Maria? _No,_ he thought quickly. No, he was saying Alex’s name. _Alex’s_.

Michael groaned quietly, squeezing Alex’s waist, his entire body pressed tightly against Alex’s as he slowly woke. He exhaled deeply against the nape of Alex’s neck, and Alex could’ve sworn he felt the soft press of lips against his skin. He held his breath.

“Alex?” Michael whispered after what felt like an hour of him pressing against Alex, brushing his lips softly against Alex’s neck for as long as he thought he was allowed. “Are you awake?”

Alex turned over to face him. “Yeah,” he whispered back. “I’m awake.”

Michael smiled, as if he hadn’t expected Alex to still be in bed, as if he’d dreamed the whole interaction last night and only now discovered it was a reality. A reality that still frightened Alex.

“Um –” Alex moved to sit up. “We should . . . get out of bed.”

“W-Why?” Michael sat up quickly, too. His arm was still around Alex’s waist.

“We can’t stay in all day,” Alex said, avoiding his gaze. He gently pulled Michael’s arm off him, the arm that had undoubtedly held Maria close, and quickly swung his legs over the bed, grateful to have kept his prosthetic on.

“Okay,” Michael said quickly, desperately, and all but leapt off the bed, coming face-to-face with Alex as he stood. “Okay! That’s okay! We can – uh – we can have breakfast! I make a mean omelet, and I’m hungry, so if you want –”

“I’m allergic to eggs,” Alex lied at once. He remembered Maria letting it slip that Michael had made them breakfast once, how surprisingly skilled he was with a skillet. Alex hadn’t even gotten _that_ first.

Michael huffed a nervous chuckle, reaching up to cup Alex’s jaw. “I can make other things, too.”

“I don’t usually eat in the morning,” he said with a small smile, backing away from Michael’s outstretched hand.

“Well, then –”

“And I have to go to work.”

Michael’s smile faltered, but he forced it back to his lips quickly enough, taking Alex’s hands in his. “Okay,” he said. “I – I can drive you.”

Alex was already shaking his head, but Michael’s hands on his tightened, a twinkle of resolve shining in his eyes. The same he’d had when they were seventeen and Michael had kissed him for the first time.

“ _Alex_ ,” he said. “I’ll drive you.”

Eventually, Alex relented. He sighed. “I need to stop by my house first, get a few things.”

“Okay,” Michael breathed at once. “Okay.” He leaned in, pressing their foreheads together so tightly that Alex was sure it would leave a bruise. His hands were trembling on Alex’s shoulders, and Alex felt as if Michael was drawing strength from him.

“What was it like?” Alex asked when they were in the car. “When we were married?”

Michael shook his head. “I didn’t get to stay long.”

Alex raised a brow. There was another half to that sentence that Michael was hiding. “ _But_?” he prompted.

Michael huffed a chuckle. “Best few hours of my life.”

Alex fiddled with this thumbs in his lap, leaning against the window, watching the desert plain pass him by. “And you said I _hadn’t_ been in the Air Force?”

Michael shook his head, and Alex saw him glance at his leg. He turned away, tucking it under his left, suddenly embarrassed. It used to be so much easier to relax around Michael, didn’t it? Now he only felt like he was on probation. If he wasn’t perfect, if he messed up at all, then that was it. Michael would realize, yet again, that he wasn’t worth it, and would run to someone else.

_It’s safer_ , he thought. _It’s safer not to give your heart back. You’ll just get hurt again._

“It was weird,” Michael said. “It was like . . . it was you, but it wasn’t you. It was –”

“Perfect,” Alex said on a sigh. “I know, you said that. Take a left here.”

Michael had been so distracted staring at Alex that he’d nearly missed the turn. He quickly swerved and Alex managed to keep himself from slamming into the door.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, and did not look at Michael for the rest of the ride.

When they parked in Alex’s driveway, Alex noticed Michael undoing his own seatbelt, too.

“I’m just going to be minute,” he said. “You don’t have to come.”

He shrugged a shoulder and gave Alex a mischievous smile before climbing out, as if he and Alex were going to sneak off to have sex and lose track of time.

Resigned, Alex followed Michael who was standing on his heels by the front door. Alex let them both in, and he went down the hall to his bedroom.

“I’ll be right back,” he called over his shoulder at Michael standing in the middle of the living room. “Uh – make yourself at home.”

He gathered his duffel bag from his closet, already filled with everything he would need, and stripped out of his jacket, shirt, and jeans. He heaved a shaky sigh as pain flared up his leg, and he sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his thigh, his head ducked, his breaths labored.

“Alex, why is . . .” Michael came in suddenly and stilled. He raked Alex up and down with his eyes, the airman wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs. Alex blushed and he grabbed the blanket to pull it over his body.

“Don’t you knock?” he muttered, still rubbing his thigh.

Michael didn’t speak for a bit, then he caught sight of Alex’s leg. “When was the last time you took that off?”

Alex shook his head. “Yesterday morning.”

He was uncomfortable, _deeply_ uncomfortable, but he had work. He couldn’t call in sick just because his leg was starting to hurt. He couldn’t let down his team who’d been admiring his strength despite his injury. And he definitely, _definitely_ couldn’t look weak in front of Michael who had just been telling him how absolutely wonderful the last Alex with all of his limbs intact had been.

“I’m fine,” he said even as Michael came to stand in front of him. “It’s just a little sore.”

Michael suddenly knelt in front of him, and Alex’s eyes snapped up. But Michael was staring at his leg. “W-What?”

Instead of answering, Michael slowly undid the prosthetic.

“Guerin, I need to go to work,” he tried, but Michael’s warm, calloused hands on his skin left his voice weak. After he moved Alex’s prosthetic aside, he leaned in and kissed Alex’s knee softly, his lips leaving a wet sound against Alex’s skin that sent a shiver up his spine.

Alex’s grip on his blanket tightened. “ _Guerin_ . . .” he warned, but Michael pressed another open-mouthed kiss higher up his leg, then another against the inside of his thigh.

Michael’s tongue pressed to Alex’s clothed cock, and Alex’s breath hitched in his throat, his heart thrashing wildly.

Michael’s fingers hooked around the waistband of his underwear, and he kissed Alex’s stomach, breathing Alex’s name against his skin. He began to tug down and Alex stopped him, his hands on Michael’s shoulders. Michael looked up, his eyes hazed with desire and his mouth hanging open.

Alex could’ve turned him away. He _should’ve_. But Michael was staring at him like he used to before anyone had come between them. He was staring like Alex was his entire world, and Alex could _believe_ him. He wanted a taste so badly he might’ve cried for it.

He slowly brought his fingers underneath Michael’s chin, his thumb gently tracing Michael’s lips. Michael opened his mouth wider, sighing in apparent relief and desire all at once as his tongue swiped his finger.

Alex tugged him up, his lips hovering over Michael’s as Michael rested his hands on either side of Alex on the bed to keep himself up. Michael’s breath fanned Alex’s lips, and Alex’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Michael –” he barely managed to say before Michael crashed their lips together, his tongue in Alex’s mouth, eager to taste him.

Michael held his face desperately, then his hands slid down Alex’s naked shoulders, his arms, then back up to touch his chest. Michael moaned against Alex’s lips, leaning in and tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Alex had to wrap his arms around Michael’s shoulders to keep himself sitting up, but it seemed Michael had been waiting for just that to push Alex onto his back, clinging to him.

“Baby,” Michael breathed, taking off his jacket without moving his lips off Alex’s.

“Uh – G-Guerin –” he tried, but Michael suddenly hitched up Alex’s leg around his waist, their hardened cocks pressing together, and Alex gasped, unable to say anything else but Michael’s name.

Alex put his hands up Michael’s shirt as they rolled around in bed, and moaned loudly the moment Michael’s naked chest touched his own. Alex touched whatever he could, shoving back the images of Maria’s hands on Michael’s chest, his back, his stomach.

_Stop thinking_ , he begged. _Stop thinking._

He put a hand down the back of Michael’s jeans, and Michael groaned.

“ _Alex_ ,” he panted, and – without using his hands – he stripped himself completely.

Alex panted heavily as Michael kissed down his body. He yanked Alex’s underwear down and took Alex in his mouth, surprising a scream out of Alex.

Michael groaned around his cock, sending vibrations that had Alex writhing against the sheets. He clung to Alex’s thighs and took him all the way, as if starved for his taste.

Neither of them had the time to be slowly opened, so Michael pulled off Alex’s cock and came back up to grind their hips together, moaning into one another’s mouths as they lay in bed, naked limbs clinging to naked limbs. Alex felt Michael’s chest against his as he breathed and he held him closer and closer.

They came almost at the same time, both eager to kiss and touch each other until they were out of breath.

Soon though, Alex was forced to get up and get himself cleaned. He still, after all, had work. As he fit on another pair of underwear and his prosthetic, Michael knelt behind him, his cock against Alex’s lower back as he kissed Alex’s neck and shoulders, his hands running up and down Alex’s arms.

“I missed you,” Michael whispered against his skin. “I missed touching you.”

“Yeah,” Alex said quietly and stood up to grab his fatigues. “It was nice.”

Michael looked halfway to following him, biting his lower lip. He faltered.

“ _Nice_? Alex, that was –”

“Uh – I need to get dressed,” Alex said without looking at Michael. “Could you wait outside for me?”

Michael said nothing a moment, then he suddenly wrapped an arm around Alex’s waist, and pressed himself against Alex’s back.

“I love you,” he said against the shell of Alex’s ear. He softly kissed the skin there. “I love you, okay?”

Alex said nothing. He didn’t know _what_ to say when the picture of Michael and Maria together clung to the forefront of his mind and Alex always had to force it back. He shouldn’t have had to force it away at all because it never should’ve existed. But it did. And every day, a little bit more and more, Alex felt like that damn picture was ruining his life.

Nevertheless, he covered Michael’s hand on him with his own, and held his breath until Michael finally decided to get dressed and leave.

Alex leaned his forehead against the wall, breathing slowly. “It’s okay. It’s okay. He loves you. It’s okay.”

When Alex came out, dressed in his fatigues with his duffel bag hanging over his shoulder, he half-expected Michael to be gone. His heart did a little backflip in his chest when he found the cowboy beside the window, staring outside.

“Anything interesting?” Alex asked, and Michael looked up.

He grinned like Alex was the rising sun, and Alex felt an irrational heat climb and settle in his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“Just you.”

Alex looked down, clearing his throat. “I – uh – I think I’ll just make the drive myself from here.”

Michael hooked his thumbs into his back pockets. “I’m taking you, Alex. What time do you finish?”

“Around nine.”

“Good,” he shrugged. “I finish at eight. I’ll come pick you up.”

Alex shook his head. “I’ll just get one of my friends to –”

“I’m coming,” Michael said in that tone that said he was not negotiating. He came to stand beside Alex, kissed his cheek softly, lingered a moment, and walked ahead of him to the door. “Come on, Private!” he called. “Thought you said you didn’t want to be late.”

And Alex _wanted_ to smile. He really did. He wanted to be overjoyed to have all of Michael’s attention, and he _was_ , but . . .

_“I like Maria, okay?”_

Alex clenched his jaw. He remembered the way Michael used to pull him in when he’d gotten back after a decade of being apart. Then the way he always let Alex go without a word. Or worse, if it was a word, it was more of a mockery of what Alex thought they shared.

How long would it be until Michael got frustrated and looked to Maria again for something _easy_ , something good, something better than what he could have with Alex? How many more mistakes and dark moods and fears was Alex allowed before it was too much again?

He shut his eyes tight. _Shut up_ , he silently warned his thoughts. _Stop thinking about it._

Alex straightened his shoulders and turned to leave, repeating those words to himself over and over.

“You hungry?” Michael asked during the drive. He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a few packets of salted peanuts. He offered Alex one. Alex shook his head. Michael’s smile dimmed. “Don’t tell me you’re allergic to peanuts, too?”

“No,” he said. “I’m just not hungry.”

A moment of silence, then –

“You’re not really allergic to eggs either, are you?” At this, Alex smiled despite himself. That seemed to be enough of an answer for Michael. “Do you just not like _my_ eggs?”

Alex shook his head. “You got me.”

“Alex,” Michael said a lot more softly. “What do you want me to do? Just tell me, and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t trust you, Guerin,” Alex said into the small space between them, and Michael turned silent. “That’s not something that can be easily fixed.”

“I know that,” Michael said almost desperately. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Alex sighed, slumping down in his seat and putting his good knee up on the console. _I don’t believe you_ , he almost said and barely managed to swallow it down. He felt Michael take his hand and he didn’t snatch it back.

“I will, Alex,” he said quietly against Alex’s fingers. “I’ll get you back. Please, just try a little longer for me.”

Alex leaned his chin on his palm, watching the sky outside, imagining himself disappearing into the clouds. “I’ll try.”

Alex’s shift came and went, and before he knew it, he was in the training room, stalling to put on his jacket. He knew it was stupid, but he wondered whether Michael was even outside or not.

Maybe he’d forgotten. Maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe something suddenly came up and he couldn’t text Alex.

Just like the night that Noah had attacked, when Michael couldn’t tell Alex that he wouldn’t be coming because he’d been too busy shoving his tongue down Maria’s –

“Stop it,” he breathed, rubbing his temples. _Stop doing this to yourself!_

He eventually managed to push himself up and went to wait outside the base where the light was almost nonexistent and all Alex could see was a sky full of stars. He leaned against a telephone poll, looking for constellations.

His friends thought he’d seen stars when he was away, but they were wrong. The sky seemed to never clear of smoke and fire where he was. He’d hated it. All he had ever thought of was Michael, wondering what he was doing, whether he’d eaten tonight, if he was warm wherever he slept. He wondered if Michael ever thought of _him_.

“Of course, he did,” Alex muttered to himself, to the stars, to whoever cared enough to listen. “He thought of me.”

_Or maybe . . ._ a terrible thought struck. Maybe he’d spent all that time getting to know Maria better, getting to admire her. Maybe he’d been waiting for Alex to mess up so he would have an excuse to run to her.

A pair of headlights yanked Alex out of his thoughts, and he squinted until the light faded, revealing Michael’s truck. Alex felt resignation settle in his chest. He found himself having almost hoped Michael had forgotten. At least then they wouldn’t have to pretend anymore.

Still, he mustered a smile and slid into the passenger’s side.

“Hey,” Michael said, taking Alex’s duffel back and tossing it onto the backseat.

“Hi,” Alex said, putting on his seatbelt.

“How was your day?”

“Fine. Yours?”

Michael shrugged. “Same old. You want to go to the Pony for a drink?”

_Is he asking because he wants to spend more time with me?_ Alex couldn’t help but wonder. _Or does he just want any excuse to go see_ her _again?_

Michael seemed to realize he was taking too long to answer, and he added, “Uh – or, you know, we could grab a late bite at the Crashdown!”

“I think I just want to go home,” he said a little quickly. “Please.”

Michael’s smile faltered, but he retrieved it quickly enough and nodded. “Okay. Okay, sure.”

They said nothing for a long time as Michael drove. Alex kept glancing at him.

He shouldn’t bring it up. He shouldn’t open old wounds. He shouldn’t try to punish himself like this. But then, he was never that good at protecting himself anyway.

“Did you tell Maria you loved her?”

Michael suddenly swerved off the road, and Alex just barley managed to keep himself seated as the truck righted itself.

Michael visibly swallowed, and though he tried for nonchalance as he shrugged a shoulder, Alex could tell how nervous he was. He turned away, feeling his heart shatter irreparably. He couldn’t believe it until now.

“I didn’t mean it like – like _that_ , you know?”

Alex opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. When he spoke, his voice was numb to his own ears. “You said the words, _‘I love you’_?” Michael didn’t answer. “Is that why you’re trying so hard to hold onto me? Because you couldn’t hold onto her?”

The truck abruptly stopped in the middle of the road, but this time Alex was prepared for it. Michael turned his whole body to face him, staring at Alex as if he’d shot him.

“Is that really what you think you are to me? A backup?”

“Yeah,” Alex said wearily, barely able to hold Michael’s gaze for two minutes without wanting to cry. “I do.”

Michael clenched his jaw. “You said you would try.”

“Does me trying include never knowing the truth?” Alex asked. “How long did you think you were going to keep that a secret? Or do you just not think it’s that big of a deal? Because it is, Guerin. It’s the biggest deal ever.”

“Alex –”

“I’ve never said those words to _anybody_ but you,” Alex said and Michael fell silent. “And I thought you felt the same way.”

“Listen to me,” he said after a long moment. “I could never love anyone the way that I love you, Alex.”

“So you really did beg her not to break up with you?”

Michael didn’t answer. Alex’s lower lip quivered despite himself, and he turned away, rubbing his face and heaving a deep, shaky sigh into his palms.

“This is so unfair,” Alex whispered. “It’s _so_ unfair.”

“Alex,” Michael tried again, hesitantly touching Alex’s shoulder as if afraid he was going to be refused. He cupped Alex’s cheek and turned him so that they were facing each other.

“Less than ten minutes with you,” he said, “is better than a year with anybody else.” He leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you _so_ much it hurts. I couldn’t love anyone else if I tried.” He shook his head helplessly. “And I’ve _tried_.”

Alex clutched his wrist tightly. He wanted, more than anything, to surge forward and kiss him. He wanted to hold him close and never let him go again. But would he be allowed? What if he screwed up again? What if Michael tried to love someone else, and actually succeeded?

“Stay with me tonight,” he said before he could help himself. “I need you to stay.”

Michael pulled back, searching Alex’s face, his eyes wide and hopeful. He suddenly smiled, and pulled Alex in for a desperate kiss. Two. Three.

“I love you,” he whispered against his lips. “I love you.”

Alex tried to nod. He held Michael’s face, unwilling to let go, and unable to say the words back.

Alex couldn’t sleep.

Once he and Michael got back to his house, he handed Michael a pair of sweats and a shirt, but Michael insisted that he’d rather stay shirtless. Alex never could say no to Michael’s body, so he let him do as he pleased. Michael had seemed eager to get into bed quickly, and Alex didn’t understand why until he’d lied down and Michael had wrapped him in his arms, pulling him in tightly against him.

“You smell good,” Michael had breathed into his hair, and Alex had melted right then against him despite himself. He’d thought it would be easy to fall asleep like this, pressed up against Michael’s warm chest. But it was far past midnight, and Alex was _still_ awake, staring up at Michael’s face, allowing himself to enjoy the sight until he was forced to give it up.

He softly leaned in and kissed Michael’s lips. To his own surprise, his vision blurred in an instant, and he sat up slowly to find his face streaked with tears. He wiped them away, looked down at the sleeping Michael, and carefully pushed himself out of bed.

He closed his bedroom door behind him and went into his living room. He sat in front of his keyboard. He remembered Michael once telling him that his own thoughts were pretty loud, but when he was playing music, everything quieted down. Alex had never confessed it to Michael, wanting more than anything for Michael to accept him, but his thoughts _never_ quieted. Music only helped focus his thoughts, help him think more clearly.

It usually worked. But then, hadn’t Michael Guerin _always_ been the exception?

It had started out peaceful enough. Alex lowered the volume on his keyboard and all but whispered the song.

_Stars shining . . . bright above you,_

_Night breezes seem to whisper . . . ‘I love you,’_

_Birds singing in the sycamore trees,_

_Dream a little dream of me . . ._

And Michael had. He’d dreamed of them together, and happy, and he hadn’t wanted to leave.

_Say ‘night-ie night’ and . . . kiss me,_

_Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me,_

_While I’m alone and blue as can be,_

_Dream a little dream of me . . ._

But that had been easy. That Alex hadn’t lived a decade away at war, away from the only man he ever loved.

_Stars fading, but I linger on, dear,_

_Still craving your kiss . . ._

Alex sighed as the music played faintly around him. Why couldn’t it stop bothering him, the idea that Michael had been attracted to Maria for even a second? The fact that Alex had been there, and he’d _still_ chosen someone else?

_I’m longing to linger till dawn, dear,_

_Just saying this . . ._

Alex stammered the lyrics as images flashed in his mind of Michael and Maria together, against his will. Pressed up against the counter at the bar, lying in Maria’s bed, in Michael’s, naked and laughing, Alex forgotten completely.

_Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you,_

_Sweet – dreams that leave all worries behind you,_

_B-But in your – in your dreams – w-whatever they be,_

_Dream a little . . . dream of me . . ._

“Wow.”

Alex stopped playing and turned around to find Michael leaning against the doorframe, staring at him with an incomparable fondness and love that had Alex almost wincing. He looked away.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Alex hid his face as his eyes burned. Why didn’t he believe him? Why couldn’t he believe Michael loved only him? Why couldn’t he believe Michael would always love him?

“I never could sleep when you weren’t there.”

_Didn’t you sleep with Maria?_ Alex thought bitterly and shoved the thought down to pile on the darkness building in his chest. He could feel it, pushing at every inch of his skin, suffocating his heart, demanding to be released. His lungs ached.

He tried to play something on his keyboard, calm himself down, but his fingers were shaking.

“Your voice is even better than I remember,” Michael said. Alex clutched his chest, trying to breathe. He heard Michael getting closer. If Michael touched him he would cry. He would cry regardless.

“You want to come back to bed?” Michael asked, getting closer and closer. “I could help you fall asleep.”

“I can’t do this,” he breathed.

He could feel Michael stand behind him. “What?”

“I can’t – I can’t do this,” he said louder.

A pause. Michael put his hands on Alex’s shoulders. “It’s okay. Breathe.”

“I can’t do it!” Alex cried, flinching away from Michael’s touch, unable to stand as his crutches had fallen away. “Guerin, I can’t – I keep _seeing_ the two of you together –”

Michael sat down beside him, at the end of the bench so that they didn’t touch. He didn’t look surprised that Alex was so distressed now, though his hands clenched and unclenched on his lap as if desperate to hold him.

“I know,” he said.

“Every time you tell me you love me, I just don’t believe you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I feel like if I don’t act like she does, then you’ll just leave me again for her or someone else!”

“Alex –”

“I’ve had to worry if I’m good enough for everyone my entire life, if I’m good enough for _anyone_ , but I’ve never had to worry with you. Now I’m terrified because you’re the _only_ person that’s ever really mattered and . . . you didn’t want me,” he shook his head, his next words a whisper. “I can’t forgive you for that.”

Michael said nothing for a long time. His eyes filled with tears as he watched Alex, and Alex wondered yet again if this was it. This was the last straw. He’d disappointed Michael again and would be left for someone else.

“Can I –” Michael sniffled and wiped a tear that had fallen down his cheek. “Can I kiss your shoulder?”

Alex stared, his eyes wet and his throat constricted. “W-What?”

Michael closed the distance and pressed a long kiss to Alex’s shoulder, then another kiss further down his arm.

“I love you,” Michael whispered fiercely against his skin. “I love you, Alex.”

He pressed his forehead almost painfully to Alex’s shoulder, and after several long minutes, he kissed his arm again below his t-shirt and stood.

“I’ll wait for you in bed.”

Alex stared, brows furrowed as Michael pulled his head in, kissed his hair, and turned back to the bedroom. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do or say, he didn’t know if he was allowed to go back right away to Michael’s side, and he didn’t know if he wanted to. He wondered if Michael had stayed up for him. He doubted it.

He stayed at his keyboard and played another slow song, not really thinking about the lyrics or the music, only about whether or not Michael was still awake.

Around an hour later, though it may have been several, Alex made his way back to the bedroom. He hesitated outside the open door, then came in to find Michael sitting up against the headboard, his head back as he stared at the ceiling. He looked down at Alex’s entrance, and followed him with his eyes as he sat down on the edge of the bed and set his crutches against the nightstand.

Wordlessly, Michael held out his arms and Alex slid into his embrace as they lay down. Alex wrapped his arms tightly around Michael’s waist, burying his face in his chest.

For a long time, neither of them said anything. Then Alex whispered, “What’re we going to do?”

Michael’s hold on him tightened so that there was no space between them at all.

“Hold on,” he said. “We’ll hold on.”

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](https://pastelwitchling.tumblr.com/)  
> This was another impulse, I'm afraid. In all honesty, this was SUPPOSED to be my entrance into BigBang, but then I pulled out of doing that, so now I'm posting it here. I hadn't intended on it being two parts, but when I finished, it just felt like that's what it should be.  
> If you enjoyed this, even a little bit, commenting and sharing is always SO appreciated.  
> That's all I have to say ._.


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